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THE EVENING STAR, SATURDAY, JANUARY 15, 1898—24 PAGES. Ss Ot BY ppsis. Simon Dale, the teller of the story, born shortly after the execution of Charles I, is locked upon as destined to gr be cause a wise woman has prophesied that he shail * the king loves, know what the k and drink of the ki °F with Barbara, daugh- ter of t Lord Quinton, verted by the London beauty his you appeara of a my ramed ria, who secretly sojourns at Hatch On Cyda return to Lon- don he ves a commission in the King's Guards. He go discovers that Cydaria is really Nell Gwynn, and decides to resign his commission because she pro- cured it. He becomes a favorite of the yeung Duke of Monmouth, and is attached to his suite. Goes to Dover with the duke, where a reception is given the king's sister, Queen of France. The queen and her suite are received with much pomp and cere- mony, but the greatest interest centers in the arrival of M. De Perrencourt, who comes py night from Calais. Secret con- nces are held. M. De Perrencourt is very partial to Barbara, and seems ceter- mined to win her by any means. At the close of the conference, Dale is hurriedly summoned into the king’s presence and jed “to drink of the king’s cup.” rst draught his senses leave him. The drink proves to be drugged wine sent to him by Phineas Tate an] offered to the kirg by his friend Darreil. ‘Tate is appre- hended and confesses his diavolical pv pcse and is sentenced. Dale is then at- tached to the suite of M. De Perrencourt, at that gentleman's request, and ordered to Prepare for the journey to France. His Preparations made, he secks to warn Bar- -bara (who is also gotag) of their danger and to devise some way of escape. At a Moment when the boat is hecalmed in a dense fog. they jump overboard into the pilot's boat, but before they off Louis discovers them and leaps into the boat. Dale overpowers him, while baroura rows some distance from the ship. The king, firding himself at a disadvantage, ¢ra- ciously ace i ing been rowed to the ship, dismis: oung people, who rew back to the es Dover. aon ¢ single guinea. as a token of his desire utmost. In a moment of temper she flings it mto Penn and in dar of apprehension, Simon thinks of Mist under cover of darkness, t y in the to Le make the mm. their first ttracts mu lauded. the hands of the Th ng that a mother speaks and a son hears to his shame and wonder! Her heart was all in me, while mine was far away. Despondency had get hold of me. Fortune in her merriest mood, seeming bent on fooling me fairly, had opened a door and shown mg, the prospect of fine doings and high ambitions realized. The glimpse had been but brief, and the tricky creature shut the door in my face with a laugh. Betty Nasroth’s prophecy was fulfilled, but its accomplishment left Mme in no better state; nay, 1 should be compelled to count myseif lucky if 1 came off umhurt aud were not pursued by the anger of those great folk whose wills and whims I had cre I must lie quiet in K ad, and to lie quiet in Hatehstead Was h—l to me—aye, h—i, some wriracle (whereof there was but one way) it should turn to heaven. That was not Was denied youth’s sovereign for ill-starred hopes and ambitions awr, a unless by for me; I balm e vicar and I were alone now, and 1 not but humor him by telling what He heard with rare enjoy- though his interest decline ad told t to the rest ent did he ntly. 1, my Ye The news concerning L afresh. My aid migt a gentleman, who, doubtle his own, t n of no small s confess truth, I was so persuaded of my value that I looked f moment to bring me a summons, and pra ed un- der my the term ul yet hich I woul ace Iny at Barbar: a You loved this creature + “I loved her.” ve her no more? >.” IT answered. mustering a cool Folly such as that goes by with am twenty-four. i love her no ‘ou no longer, sir. Vicar opened his box and took a ® pinch. half way on “you love some other - road to his nose, Woman, Simon.” He sroke not as a man who as! tien, nor Opinion; he wer to confirm som her woman, § there left the even as declared one who hazz ct and needed “Ye you love d he, and aft him. Td i Had I told myself a hundred time I was not i: love to be told by another that I was? True. I might a 1 love had not— h, who re exclaimed the vicar, to the window and lookin. “T seem to — Simon, look two s eae tended had bee pe light ser enoush meé who t He roe and his hor Ward th Ith ar vi ot n as I think. and [ think he does,” said izle moment I stood there the room hesitu Kk it is, “I thin Why my Lord Carterd go to the manor? the vic “Let him go to the devil,” I crie shy cried , and I at from the table where it lay. ¥ turned to me with a smile on Seized my lad."" said he, “and jet me not hear ain de my propositions. They are on an extensive observation of anity an— 1. I know not to this day on what be- . for I was out of the house before the . completed his statement of the au- thority that underlay his propositions. CHAPTER XXI. ‘The Strange Conjuncture of Two Gen- tlemen. I have heard it said that King Charles Taughed most heartily when he heard how certain gentleman had tricked M. de Per- rencourt and carried off from his clutches the lady who should have gone to prepare for the Duchess of York's visit to the court of Versailles. “This Uriah will not be set in the forefront of the battle,” said he, “and therefore David can't have his way.” He would have laughed, I think, even al- though my action had thwarted his own Schemes, but the truth is that he had so Wrought on that same devotion to her re- ligion which, according to Mistress Nell, inspired Mile. de Querovaille that by the time the news came from Calais he had little doubt of success for himself, although bis friend. M. de Perrencourt, had been baffled. He had made his treaty, he had got his money, and the lady, if she would not stay, yet promised to return. The king my melanc wa tint with as I declared to myself that | © lacking for all that I e Would Rot use # faithful | | | |to prevent ANTHONY .HOPE COPYRIGHT, 631 As oY ANMAWKINS.. then was well content, and found perhaps seme sly tisfaction in the defeat of the gre: prince whose majesty and dignity made any reverse which befell him an musement to less potent persons. In any se the king laughed, then grew grave for a moment while he declared that his best efforts should net be wanting to reclaim Mis s Quinton to a sense of her duty, and then laughed again. Yet he set about reclaiming her, although with no great en- ergy or fierceness; and when he heard that Menmouth had other views of the lady's duty he shrugged his shoulders, saying, ep if there be two Davids, I'll wager a non Uriah.” “asy to follow a man to the door of a but if the door be shut after him and the pursuer not invited to enter he can but stay outside. So it feH out with me, and being outside I did not know what passed within nor how my Lord Carford fared with Mistress Barbara. I flung my- self in high chagrin on the grass of the manor park, cursing my fate, myself, and, if not Barbara, yet that perversity which s in all women and by logic even in Mis- Bari Yet although I had no part ent on and how it proceeded d; let me now leave the stage that I have held too long and pass out of sight till my cue calls me a: is evening, then, my lady, y sick, being in her bed, and Mistres Barbara, although not sick, very weary of her solitude and longing for the time when she could betake herself to the same refuge (for there is a pride that forbids us to seek bed too early, however strongly we de- re it), there ¢ a great knocking at the door of the t A gentlema back and accompanied by two without aud craved immediate aud her iadyshiv. Hearing that she w he asked for Mistress Barbara and ot entrance; yet he would not give his tress in it the play w I learned after rvants was ii p of but declared that he came ness from Lord Quinton. The exc ed, and Bari recelved him. With sur- he found Carford bowing low before d told her enough concerning him her welcome bi warm. I e tola her more h he afforded the opportunity. The imperfect knowl- would ha me tack that he must have fereseen. the parry ready for the thrust. i “From the danger that I knew I guarded you, the other I did not know.” Then, with a burst of well-feigned indignation, he cried: “By heaven, but for me the French king would have been no. peril to you; he would have come too late.” She understcod him and flushed painfully. “When the enemy is mighty,” he pursued, “we must fight by guile, not force; when we can’t oppose we must delay; we must check where we can’t stop. You know my meaning; to you I couidn’t put it more piainly. Yet now I have spoken plainly to the Duke of Monmouth, praying something from him in my own name as well as you He is 4 noble prince, madame, and his of- fense should be pardoned by you who caused it. Had I thwarted him openty, he would have been my enemy and yours. Now he is ycur friend and mine.” The defense was clever enough to bridle her indignation. He followed up his ad- vantage swiftly, leaving ker no time to pry for a weak spot in his pleading. “By heaven,” he cried, “let us lose no time on past troubles. T was to blame, if you will, in execution, though not, I swear, in intention. But here and now is the dan- ger, and I am come to guard you from it.” ‘Then I am much in your debt, my lord,” said she, still doubtful, yet in her trouble eager to believe him honest. ‘Nay,” said he, “all that I have, mad- is yours, and you can’t be in debt to your slave.” I do not doubt that in this speech his pas- sion seemed real enough and was the more effective from having been suppressed till now, so that it appeared to break forth against his will. Indeed, although he was a man in whom ambition held the place of love, yet he loved her, made her his for passion’s sake, as well as for the power that he hoped to wield through her means. I hesitate now to judge him. There are many men who take their color from the tim ome insects from the in honest times they would be hones! they follow the evil fashion, force to stand by themselves. lerd was one of this kidney. He had having no Perhaps this and would have: give discourtesy sodner than that other thing, my lord.” His face grew white with passion. Sho accused him of powardice, and plainly hint- ed to him that he failed her she would turn to one whi 3 fe coward, let him be as discourteous §nd fferent as. his sullen disposition made him,*I am sorry I was not there to fee Cattord face. Yet he was in the net of her challénge now, & bold front alone would serye. " , “Sad! .” he ‘cried, “you “By heaven, shall know by Stomctrow how. deeply pou wrong me. If my-hea must answer for it, you shall have the prdot.” . “I thank you,°my férd,” sald she with a little bow, as though she asked no more than her due in demanding that he should risk his head ‘fpr Hr. “I did not doubt -your answer.” “You shall ha¥e nétause, madame,” said he very boldly, although he could not con- trol the signs of his uneasiness. “Again I thanX you,” said she. “It grows late, my lord. "By yur kindness I shall sleep peacefully and‘‘without fear. Good- night.” She moved toward the door, but turned to him again, saying, “I pray your ; Pardon, but even hospitality must give way to sickness. I cannot entertain you suita- bly while my mofher lies abed. If you lodge at the inn, they will tend you well for my father’s saké, and a message from me can reach you easily. Carford had strung himself to give the promise; whether he would fulfill it or not lay uncertain in the future. Yet for so much.as he had dofe he had a mind to be paid. He came to her, and kneeling, took her hand. She suffered him to kiss it. “There ig nothing I wouldn’t do to win my prize,” he said, fixing his eyes ardently on her face. =. - 1 “I -have asked. nothing but what you seemed to offer,”, she: answered. coldly. “If it be a matter of bargain, my lord— “No, no,” he efled, geeking to catch again at her hand as she drew it away and with @ curisy passed out. Thus she teft him without so much as a backward glance to promise further favor. So may alady, if. she play her game well, take all and promise nothing. Carfordy tefused-even a lodging in the house, crossed in the plan by which he had reckoned on getting Barbara into his power, driven to an enterprise for which he had small liking , and left in utter doubt wheth- er the success for which he ran so great a risk would profit him, may well have sought the inn to which Barbara commend- ed him. in no cheerful mood. I wager he swore a round oath or two, as he and his servants made thcir way thither through the dusk and knocked up the host, who, keeping country hours, was. already in his bed. It cost them some minutes to rouse him, and Carford beat most angrily on the door. At last they were admitted—and I turned aw For I must confe ps, not able to r ome of Carford. his dy it: Thad dogged their till T saw what would Yet we must give love If he takes a man into strange HEN,” SAID HE, “YOU LOVE SOME OTHER WOMAN, SIMON,” ‘ » comes. May I tell you ou know what it will say, my I will stand by the event, dily. “The id he, stur- ng of the letter will prove Jt will bid your moth- ompany the messenger —" cannot if your mother cannot, you alone, ing woman, to Dover.” 2" cried Barbara. “For what purpose?” She shrank from him, as :hough alarmed by ths very name of the place whence she had escaped. He looked full in her fa slowly and significantly: Madame goes back to France, and you to go with her.” Barbara caught at a chair near her and pk into He stood over her now, speaking quickly and urgen “You must listen,” me right or wrong. er and you ac “My mothe © and answered ar and lose no time in acting. gentleman, by neme M. de Fon s, wil be here tomor- tow; he carries your father’s ter and is sent to bring me come?" she cried. will convey the request,” an- d 11 will go,” t come to harm with him, and whea £ have told him all, he won't allow me to go to France.” For yet my lord did no know of what len his daughter, nor did my lady, se sickness made her unfit to be bur- d with such troublesome matters, Indeed, you would come to no harm with your father, if you found your fath- * said Carford. “Come, I will tell you. Before you reach Dover my lord will have gcne from there. As soon as his letter to you was sent the king made a pretext to dispatch him into Cornwall; he wrote again to tell you of his journey and bid you not ome to Dover till he sends for you. is letter he intrusted to a messenger of my Lord Arlington’s, who was rcad for London. But the. secretary's ies- serger knew when to hasien and wneri to loiter on the way. You are to have set out before the letter arrives. Barbara looked at him in bewilderment and terror; he was, to all seeming, com- ; Pcsed, and spoke with an air of honest sin- cerity. “To speak it plainly, it is a trick,” he said, “to induce you to return to Dover. This M. de Fontelles bas orders to bring you at all hazards, and is armed with the king's authority, in case my lord’s bidding should not be enough.” She sat for a while in helpless dismay. Carford had the wisdom not to interrupt her thoughts. He knew that she was seek- ing for a plan of escape and was willing to let her find that there was none. “When do you say that M. de Fontelles will be here?” she asked at last. “Late tonight or early tomorrow. He rested a few hours in London, while I rode through, else I shouldn’t have been here before him.” « “And why are you come, my lord?” she asked. “To serve you, madame,” he answered, simply. She drew hergelf up, saying, haughtily: “You were not so ready to serve me at Dover.” Carford was not disconcerted by an at- you hear it from my father en’t seen my lord. My knowledge of his letter came through the Duke of Monmouth, and, although he spoke there of my li ickness, I trusted that she had_ reco: B My moth sibl He came a step nearer her. Fontelles will be here tomorrow,” he said. “If you are here then—- Yet if there be any other whose aid you could 5 Again he paused, regarding her r cannot travel. It is impos- sat in sore distre: twisting her hands in her lap. One there was and not Yet to send for him crossed her resolution and stung her pride most bitter- . We had parted in anger, she and lL. I 1d blamed my share in the quarrel bitter- ly enough, it is likely she had spared her- self no moreffi yet the more fault is felt the ‘der comes its acknowledgment. s Mr. Dale in Hatchstead?” asked Car- ford, blodly and bluntly. “I don't know where he is. He brought e here, but I have heard nothing from we parted.” y he is gone again * paid Barbara. Carford must have been a dull man in- deed not to discern how the matter lay. There is no better time to press a lady than when she is chagrined with a rivai and all her pride is under arms to fight her inclination. ‘Surely, or he could not have shown you such indifference—nay, I must call it dis- courtesy.” de did a service.” “A gentleman, madam, should grow more, nct less, assiduous when he is so happy as to have put a lady under obligations.” He had said enough, and restrained him- self from a further attack. “What will you do?’ he went on. ‘Alas, what can I do?” ‘Then she cried, ‘his M. de Fontelles can’t carry me off against my will.” “He has the king’s commands,” said Car- ford. ‘Who will resist him?” She sprang to her feet and turned on him quickly. “Why, you,” she said. ‘Alone with you I cannot and will not go. But you are my —you are ready to serve me. You will re- sist M. de Fontelles for my sake, aye, and for my sake the king’s commands.” Carford stood still, amazed at the sud- den change in her manner. He had not conceived this demand, and it suited him very ill. The stroke was too bold for his temper. The king was interested in this affair, and it might go hard with the man who upset his plan and openly resisted his messenger. Carford had calculated on be- ing able to carry her off, and thus defeat the scheme, under show of ignorance. This thing done, and done unwittingly, might gain pardon. To meet and defy the enemy, face to face, was to stake all his fortune on a desperate chance. He was dumb. Barbara's lips curved into a smile that ex- Pressed wonder and dawning contempt. “You hesitate, sir?’ she asked. “The danger {s great,” he muttered. “You spoke of discourtesy just now, my lord— 4 “You do not lay It to my c! 1 “Nay, to refuse to face pote a lady and a lady whom a man loves—you meant that, my lord—goes by another name, I for- edge that she had caused her to accuse him | “It’s an old story, this love of mine,” | places, sometimes he shows “him things | rat of a timidity in face of powerful | said he in gentler tones. ‘Twice you have | worth his knowing. If Ta lovesick fool rivals than of any deliberate design to set | heard it, and a lover who. spe: atehed rival into my mistres his love below his ambition and to use her | must mourn one at least house and watched him out of it with de- as his tool. Had she known all I knew she | time I think you came veuring jealcusy, aye, if I had chosen to would not hs tened to hi Sven now | May I tell it once i vend my time beneath the maner windows | sh retext for declining con- Indeed, it is not the time—" she began } rather than in my own comfortable chair, ve night and would have with- | in an agitated voice. why, I had dene only what many who are drawn at once, but hi ed her retreat “be your answer what it may, Iam your | now wise and sober gentlemen have done in earnestly praying her for her fathe servant,” he protested. “My hand and] their time. And if on in that same park and her own to hear his m wt are yours, although yours an-|1 had declared my heart broken for. the ng that was in more other's.” sake of another there are revolutions she was aware of. Thus he There is none—I am free—’ she mur-] in hearts a3 in states, and after the rebels be seated. mured. His eyes were on her, and she! have had thelr day the king comes to his Wihat Js your message from my father, |/nerved herself to calm, saying: ““Chere\is| own again. Nay, have known come who jmy,jordz” she asked coldly, yet not un-| nothing of what you suppose. But my dis-| are very. loyal to: King Charles vee said | civilly. Position toward you, my lord, has not} nothing hard of Oliver, whose yoke they | “Madame, I have none,” he answered with changed.” » had worn. I will say naught against 1 bluniness not ill caleula ‘Tused the | He let a moment go by before he answer- | usu uithough the queen may have to gain admission, fearing that my | ed her. s though emo- her own again. own devotion to you would not suffice, well | tion fi Then he s Curfcrd should not have her. 1, as you know it. But although I have no | gravel 1 ight be the greatest fool in message, 1 K that will have one Lam 1 frem my heart to he. _ and lie sulking while Nay, you must fi For she had | and 1 p rly da stormed the citadel on which I 2 bring me another answer. God forbid that | jonged to plant my flag. But the victor listen, my lord, but I will listen s I should p ition now. You | shculd not be Carford. Among gentlemen a may ac although you | quarrel is easily come by. Yokels may ou're hard to me, Mistress Barbara,” | do not ress Barbara, | month their blowsy sweetheart's name and “But take the Udings how you | you'll : fight openly for her favor over their mugs pay heed to them.” He drew ome with you?” she cried. of we quarrel on the state of the king- her and continued. “Tomorrow y lady will come also, and we e|dom, the fall of the cards, the cut of our a message Will come trom your father. You } together will seek your father in C coats, what you will. Carford and I would © had none for many d On my faith, madame, there is no + find cause without much searching. I “Alas, nol’ said s We were both on | put in flight.” was so hot that I was within an ace of roed and could send no letter to one | «yy mother lies too sick for journeying. summoning him then and there to show by what right he rode so boldly through my native village; that offense would serve as well as any other. Yet prudence pre- tiled. The closed doors of the inn hid the from my sight, and I went on my determined to be about by cock-crow est Carford should steal a march. But as I went, I passed the vicar’s door. He stood on the threshold, smoking his long pipe (the good man loved Virginia and gave his love free rein in the evening) and gazing at the sky. I tried to slink by him, fearing to be questioned, but he caught sight of my figure and called me to him; yet he made no reference to the manner of our last parting. 7 Whither away, ‘To bed, sir, “Tt is well, party a uon?’’ he asked. “And whence?” His eyes m twinkh He the air and said “Love, Simen, is a divine distemper of the mind, wherein it paints bliss with woe'’s pallette and sees heaven from heil.” Ycu borrcw from the poets, sir,” said I surlily, “Na he rejoinéd, ‘the poets from me, or irom amy man who hes or has had a ‘heart in “him. What, Shnon, you leave mi For-I had turned eway. It’s late, sir,” sajd I, “for the making of rhapsodies.” “You've made yours,” he smiled. “Hark, wl that?” . As he spoke ther6 came the sound of horse’s hoofs. A; moment later the figures of two mounted” men emerged from the darkness. By some impulse, I know not what, I ran behind the vicar and sheltered myself in the pgrch at his back. Carford’s arrival had set|my mind astir again, and new events found rgady welcome.’ The vicar stepped out a pace into the road with his hand over his eyes and peered at the strangers. “What do you call this place, sir,” came in a loud voice from the nearer of the rid- ers. I started at the voice; it had struck on my ears befgre,;and no Englishman owned it. sh iM “It is the village of Hatchstead, at your service,” answered the vicar. “Is there an inn in {£2 “Ride for halg.a ‘mile and you'll find a good one.” t “I thank you, Bir’; I could hold myself-ao longer, but pushed the vicar aside and Tran out into the road. The horsemen-had already turned their heads toward the inn and walked along slowly. as though they were weary.“‘Good might,” cried the vicar—whether to them or to me or to all creation I know not. The door. closed on him. I stood for an in- stant watching the retreating form of the man who had inquired the way. A spirit of high excitement came on me; it might be that all was not Snighed, and that Betty Nasroth’s prophecy should not bind the future in fetters. For there at the inn was Carford, and here, if I do not err, was the man whom ,my knowledge of French had 80 perplexed in the inn at Canterbury. And _ Carfc knew’ Fontelles. On what errand came they?’ Were they friends to one another or foes? If friends, they hould find an enemy; if foes, there was another to share their battles. I could not tell the meaning of this strange conjunc- tion, whereby the two came to g yet my guess was not far out, and I hafled the prospect that it gave with a fierce ex- ultatton. Nay, I laughed aloud, but first knew that I laughed when suddenly M. de Fontelles turned in “his saddle, crying in French to his servant: “What was that?” “Something laughed,” answered the fel- low in an alarmed voice. “Something? You mean somebody.” “I know not. It sounded strange.” I had stepped in under the hedge when Fontelles turned, but his puzzle and the servant's superstitious fear wrought on my excitement. Nothing would serve me but to play a jest on the Frenchman. I laughed again, loudly. “God save us!” cried the servant, and I Brake no doubt he crossed himself most Pi y Us some madman got loose,” said M. de ,Fontelles scornfully. “Come, let’s get on. It was a boy's trick—a very boy's trick. Save that I set down everything I would not tell it. I put my hands to my mouth and bellowed: “Tl vient. An oath broke from Fontelles. I darted into the middle of the road, and for a mo- ment stood there, laughing again. He had wheeled his horse around, but did not ad- vance toward me. I take it that he was amazed, or, it may be, searching a bewil- dered memory. “Il vient!" I cried again in my folly, and, turning, ran down the road at my _ best speed, laughing still. Fontelles made no effort to follow me, yet on I ran, till I came to my mother’s house. Stopping there, I cried in the ex- erance of triumph: | ‘Now she'll have need of met’* Certainly the thing the vicar spoke of is a distemper. Whether divine or of what crigin, I will not have judged by that night’s prank of mine. “They'll inn,” bed. do very well together at the I laughed as I flung myself on my CHAPTER XXII, The Device of Lord Carford. It is not my desire to assall, nor is it my part to defend, the reputation of the great. There is no such purpose in anything that I have here written. History is their judge, and our own weakness thelr advocate. Some said, and many believed, that. ma. dame brought the young French lady In her train to Dover with the intention that the thing should happen which happened. I had rather hold, if it be possible to hold, that a princess so gracious and so unfor- tunate meant innocently, and was cajoled or overborne by the persuasions of her Kinsmen, and perhaps by some specious pretext of state policy. In like manner I am reluctant to think that she planned harm for Mistress Barbara, toward whom she had a true affection, and I will read in an honesi sense, if I ce: n, the letter which M. de Fontelies brought with him to Hatch- ad. In it madame touched with a light discretion on what had passe deplored with pretty gravity the waywardne men and her own simplicity, which 1 he to their di ces and rende eful to ker friends than she de- sired to be. Yet now she was warned, her eyes were openc he would guard her own honor at of any who would trust te her. himself, M de Perrencourt, Was penitent, even as was the Duke of Mcnmouth, and had sworn to trouble her and her friends no more. Would not, then, her sweet Mistress Barbara, with whom (she vowed) she had fallen so mightily in love, come back to her and go with her to France, and be with her until the Duchess of York came, and, in good truth, as much longer as Barbara would linger, and Bar- father, in his Kindness ‘suffer? So an the letter, and it seemed an honest letter... Yet 1 do not know, and if it were honest, t who dared trust to it? Grant madame the best of will, where lay her power to resist M. de Perrencourt? But M. de Py ‘ncourt was penitent. Aye, his pen- itence was for having let her go, and would last until she should be in iis power again. Let the intent of the letter he carried be What it might, M. de Fontelles, a gentle- eg of courage and high honor, believed his errand honest. He had not been at knew nothing of what had If he were an instrument in wicked schemes, he did not know the mind of those who employed him. He came don an honorable mis- nd bearing an invi- tation which should give great gratification toe the lady to whom it was addressed. Madame did Mistress Quinton the high compiiment of desiring her company, and would dou Ss Pcompenss well for servis she asked. ‘aw no and asked no more. In perfect con- ence and henesty he about his kK, not imagining that he d been sent on an errand wita which any man could reproach him, or with a purpose that gave any tie night of questioning his actions. Nor did ot “Il vie change this mood in him. When he collected thoughts and alled the incident in which those words ad before played a part, he of som aw in them one who had per- raied a state secret, and in- toward the king and the king but being unaware of any conne Ween Mistress Barbara and M. ce Perrencourt, he did not associate the ery with the object of his present mission. So also, on hearing that a gentleman was at the inn (Carford had not given his name), and had visited the manor, he was in no way disquieted, but ready enough to Meet any number of gentlemen without fearing their company or their scrutiny. Gayly and courtecusly he presented him- self to Barbara. Her imother lay stll in bed, and she received him alone in the room looking out on the terrace. With a low bow and words of deference he de- clared*his errand, and delivered to her the letter he bore from madame, making bold to add his own hopes that Mistress Quin- ton would not send him back unsuccessful, but let him win the praise of a trustworthy* messenger. Then he twirled his mustache, smiled gallantly, and waited with all com- posure while she read the letter. Indeed, he deserves some pity, for women are not wont to spend much time on reasoning in such a case. When a man comes on busi- ness which they suspect to be evil, they make no ado about holding him a party to it, and that without inquiring whether he knows the thing to which he is setting his hand. Barbara read her letter through once and a second time; then, without a word to Fontelles, aye, not so much as bidding him be seated, she summoned a servant, and dispatched him to the inn to summon Car- ford to her. She spoke low, and the French- man did not hear. When they were again alone together, Barbara walked to the win- dow, and stood there looking out. Fon- telles, growing puzzled and ill at ease, waited some moments before he ventured to address her; her air was not such as to encourage hi. her cheek was reddened, and ber eyes were indignant. Yet at last he plucked up his courage. “I trust, madame,” said he, “that I may carry the fairest of arswers back with me?” “What answer ts that, sir?” she asked, half turning to him, with a scornful glance. “Yourself, madame, if you will so honor me,” he answered, bowing. ‘Your coming would be the answer best pleasing to mad- ame, and the best fulfillment of my er- rand.’ She looked at him coolly for a moment or two, and then said: “I have sent for a gentleman who will advise me on my arswer.” M. de Fontelles raised his brows and an- swered somewhat stiffi “You are free, madame, to consult whom you will, although I had hoped that the matter needed but little consideration.” She turned full on him in a fury. thank you for your judgment of me, she cried. ‘Or is it that you think me a fool, to be blinded by this letter?” “Before heaven—” began the puzzled gentleman. ‘ “I know, sir, in what esteem a woman’s honor is héld in your country, and at your king’s court.” “tn as high, madame, as In your country, nd at your court.” oMyes, that's true. God help me, that’ true. But we are not at court now, sir. Hasn’t it crossed your mind that such an errand as yours may be dangerous’ “T had not thought of it,” sald he, with a smile and a shrug. “But, pardon me, I do not fear the danger. “Neither danger nor disgrace?’ she sneered. Fontelles flushed. “A lady, madame, may say what she leases,” he remarked, with a bow. Peon, enough of oretentese she cried. “Shall we speak openly?” “With all my heart, madame,” said he, lost between anger and bewilderment. Far a moment it seemed as though she would speak, but the shante of open speech was too great for her. In his ce and wonder he could do nothing to aid her. “E won't speak of it,” she cried. “It's a man’s part to tell you the truth and to ask aye ator Se ce i ae fn with it.” Fontelles took a step toward her, seeking how he could assuage a fury that he did not understand. “As God lives,” he began gravel: Bar- bara would not give him opportuni “I pray you,” she cried, “stand aside and suffer me to pass. I will not stay longer with you. Let me pass to the door, sir. I'll send a gentleman to speak with you.” Fontelles, deeply offended, utterly at a loss, flung the door open for her and stood aside to let her pass... . “Madame,” he sald, “it must be that you misapprehend.” “Misapprehend? Yes, or apprehend too cleariy!” “As [am a gentleman— “I do not grant it, sir,” she interrupted. He was silent then; bowing again, he drew a pace further back. She stood for a moment, looking scornfully at him. Then, with a courtesy, she bade him farewell and passed out, leaving him in as sad a con- dition as ever woman's way left man since the world began. Now, for reasons that have been set out, Carford received his summons with smali pleasure, and obeyed it so leisurely that M. de Fontelles had more time than enough in which to rack his brains for the mean- ing of Mistress Barbara's taunts. Yet he came no nearer the truth, and was reduced to staring idly out of the window till the gentleman who was to make the matier plain should arrive. Thus he saw Carford coming up to the house on foot, slowly and heavily, with a gloomy face and a nervous air. Fontelles uttered an exclamation of joy; he had known Carford, and a friend's aid would put him right with this hasty damsel who denied him even the chance of self-defense. He was aware also that in ‘Spite of his outward devotion to the Duke of Monmouth, Carford was in reatty of the French party. So he was about to run out and welcome him, when his steps were Stayed by the sight of Mistress Barba herself, who flew to meet the newcomer with every sign of eagerness. Carford sa- luted her, and the pair enterca into cony FARMER HOPKINS’ EVIDENCE HE TELLS ABOUT THE SUFFER- ING @F HIS DAUGHTER. Prostration ang eurnlgia, Saved After Her Physi- Hope. cian Abandoned From the Republican, ¢ While in the neighborhood of cently, © reporter was told that Miss We Kins, daughter of Mr. Dennis Hopkins, a prom hent farmer of Barthol manty. had been t subject of rkalle trans ath The re porter decided to investipate and learn the part Ulars. He was driven to Mr “ a country had an int 3 sation with that g mex illness of mniy daughter You have been 8, “for Clara ¢ tried Dr. Willia and they did ger m ther that w At medicine ac correctly Info ed Pink Pils good than ever took complished. the a few months which years, “about three years The doctor who at by weak digestion. produced Which was pmpanied by neur: Which at first was located In the batted for physicians trou! heart. Of course this wax a dangers any such trouble, and she rapidly ¢ withstanding that the physician was tr ‘This coutinued till a year ago last ich time she sation on the terrace, Fontelles watching them from the window. To his fresh amazement, the interview seemed hardly less fierce than his own had been. The lady appeared to press some course on her adviser, which the adviser was loth to take; she insisted, growing angry in man- ner; he, having fenced for awhile and pro- tested, sullenly gave way; he bowed ac- quiescence, while his demeanor asserted di: approval; she made nothing of his disap- proval and received his acquiescence with a Scorn little disguised. Carford passed on to the house; Barbara did not follow him, but. flinging herself on a marble seat, cov- ered her face with her hands and remained there in an attitude which spoke of deep agitation and misery. (To be continued.) ——_+ UNIVERSITY NOTES Georgetown University. Mer. Martinelli will be tendered a recep- tion tomorrow night at the university by the faculty and students of the different departments, including the law and me cal schools. Among the students who will speak on the occasion are Wim- satt, A. Carr, Waggaman and Kirby of the post-graduate class. The reception will not be a public one, admission being restricted to those having invitations. A large attendance is expected. The rector, accompanied by Very Rev Father Driscoll, returned from short business trip Wednesday. a Rey. Father Whistle, C. H. B e Monohan of Philadelphia and Rev. J. A. Story, S. J., were visitors at the univer- sity this week, and at their re t the students were given a half holiday Thurs- day afternoon. The English examination was given Wed- nesday and others followed during the week. Very little activity is manifest in the various societies becatise of the prepa- ration necessary fer the examinations in the various subjects. A bowling tournament is in contempia- tion and a pool and billiard contest will probably take place about the same time. These events will occur in about three weeks, but the exact dates have not yet been decided upon, Work on the new students’ going on daily and will soon pleted. Wefers, Walsh, Maloney, Dessez, Collins, McInery, Devereaux, Cody, Fleming and Owens are in training for the relay race in which Georgetown is entered at the ath- letic meet of the Boston College, which will be held at Boston, Mass., “on the 15th of February. Work on the new grand stand has not yet been commenced. The Merrick debate, which is to be held on Washington's birthday, will be on the Mbrary is be com- question, “Resolved, That It Would for the Inter of the United States to a National University Having Control Over All Collegiate Degr At the law school, Mr. J. Nota MeGiil, register of wills for the District ‘olum delivered the last of his lectures on “Practice Before the Probate Court,” on Monda Mr. Hamilton addressed the of the senior nd po: duate er for the first time this term on com- W practice, yesterd: The junior class held a meeting last evening for the purpose of adopting the constitution draft- ed by the committee appointed for the purpose at the first meeting of the cl: Catholic University. The rector, Mgr. Conaty, will preach to- morrow at St. Peter's, on tol Hill, in aid of the St. Vincent de Paul conference. Last Sunday mass was celebrated at Di- vinity Chapel, Caldwell Hall, for the de- ceased benefaciors of the university, Wednesday evening Mgr. Conaty held his first reception as rector, and nearly all of the professors and students attended. The lay department of the university has had a number of new students enrolled since the holidays, the dormitory building ing well filled, and other students resid- ing in Brookland and in the city. Rev. J. W. Cummings of Illinois, John Lynch of Albany, N. Y., and Kev. James F. Dolan of Troy, N. Y., former stu- dents of the university, have recently visit- ed the university. Howard University. A number of candidates for the base ball team were out for practice this week. Commissioner Harris of the bureau of education lectured at the university Thurs- day on “Rousseau,” and on next Thursday will deliver an address on “Herbert Spen- cer.” At its last meeting, the Christian En- deavor Society elected officers as follow: President, Mr. G. S. Murray; vice presi dent, Thomas Frazier; secretary, Miss F. M. Dungee; corresponding secretary, Mr. L. T. Gillam; treasurer, Miss M. E. Mullhil librarian, Miss S. A. Howe, and delegate to the District Union, Mr. J. H. G. Wil- liams. At its meeting tonight, the subject will be “Fishers of Men—How to Win Souls.” The Bible class recently organized in con- nection with the Christian eavor So- ciety held a mecting Wednesday and lis- tened to an address by Dr. Rankin, presi- dent of the university, on “The Influence of the Bible on Literature.” The following were elected officers of the Alpha Phi Society at the last meeting of that organization: President, Mr. Calvin Alexander; vice president, W. O. Bundy; secretary, J. T. Fox; treasurer, Mr. Smith. Tonight the society will resolve itself into @ mock congress. Colam| University. A new society, called the Columbian Vaudeville Club, has been organized at the university. The Virginia Club held a meeting Wed: nesday evening. ‘The Law School Debating Society holds a Bublic debate this evening upon the ques- tion, “Resolved, That the United States should abolish the present civil service sys- tem.” The speakers will be Messrs. Harri- son, Mississippi; Stampers,. Virginia, and Wescott, District of Columbia, affirmative, and Messrs. Adams, Georgia; Sullivan, Idaho, and Freeman, Georgia, negative. Last Seturday evening the society elected permanent officers. The Senior Law Class held a meeting last evening te arrange for a dance to be given to its friends at an early date. Prof. Jeffords delivered his first lecture on criminal law last Wednesday evening to the law students. The Colun.bian University Parliamentary Law Society met Thursday evening in the post-graduate hall. The membership of this organization, which is only about a month old, is rather small, and efforts are being made to increase it. The question for Gebate at the meeting of the Encsinian Society this evening is: “Re- solved, That the administration of Andrew Rev. Was almost constantly ber bed. “Tbe neuralgia became gradually worse, and Suaily she was a condrwed victim to it. “Nervous prostratiou set in, and she was soon all run down. Her blood was impure and watery, aud her complexion became sallow and colorless.” She had no strength, and the least poise she Way so nervous. We had at end he treated ti tug her any good. In fact, it seemed that sly Was continually becoming worse. He fin up the case as hopeless, und advised us to Williams Pink Plils f Said that they were th efit ber. “1 procured a found that th kept on taking Pale 1 her, only thing that would ben: ple of box boxes, with and since then ¢ “— ever of her old trou Pink Mills are a wond) wont od in Ch at physicians failed to a Ml the elements necessary to and richness to the blood and 1 4 contained, in in Dr. Wil iams’ Pink Pills s 8 for tro In me whate © natare sold in boxes (neve enis & box, Bee fo 1 while Mr. Beatty m lke duties for the evening will The senior class of the college held a business meeting on Thur Ex: tons in the partment eld as follows and hi Library Association of W. met at the universiicy Wednesday 8 o'clock The Washington Wednesday at the of the members nected with the Wednesday by Williams was on the > Place Which Fungi Occup the Vegetable King ; Nat al University. Tte officers clected at the fourth annual meetin f the Alumni Associa Tucsday at its rooms in the ment, we as f President, vice president, Col. I enor; second vice president, W. P rguson. cludes the Hauss, Kel McPherso z eld Tues ‘on presiding . : , manipula by the e t of the eve D. Monro: discussed members pre A committe appointed to purchase books for library, and four applications for mem? wer ived. The affairs of the 1 flourishing condition and the attende 1 meetings w Work is the sever department. terest in anato. jects for demon: The subject of y satisfactorily of the dental show their in- ng as sub- for this evening reads as follows: That Repre- tatives in Congress Morally Bound the Will of Their Constituents. irmative, A. 8. Dalton, E. P. Hamlin, i Dateons vemative ae Allen, 3, J. Hill. The subject last. Saturday evening was, “Resolved, That All Rev s for the Sup- port of Government St aby speakers were 4 Moore for Browne, Land- Tax on Land Values. Messrs. Magee, Van D the affirmative and M ergren and Hill fc Prof. Carusi has go! io Pen- sacola, Fla. During his sojourn there he will be the guest of his brother-in-law, Commander Reisinger, commandant of navy yard. During the absence of Pi Carusi the junior class will be presided ov by Prof. Siddons, who will commence this evening lectures on bills and A chapter of a Greek letter frat has been organized by of senior and grad classes the rooms donated by faculty » use of the fraternity have been handsomely fitted up. It is proposed to give a banquet at the Raleigh early in brary Prof. Davis has finished Smith's cantile Law and has commenced le on Corporations. ‘ The jury in the murder tria) havin failed to agree, the counsel on both have agreed to a stipulation for a ve! of manslaughter, and the argued before the court of appeals, on law points. The post-graduate class, at a meeting held Tuesday evening, decided to ha class banquet the latter part of (his mon a ‘Did your husband die hap- the the et se will now be M . Jones— py Widow Brown—“Oh, yes; just before he died he cried out ecstatically, ‘I see a great light,’ and then added, softly, think I'm going where they give better gas,’ and passed smilingly away.”’—Judge. ~—-———eee__—